


When the Yellow Fades to Red

by leafline



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Assisted Suicide, Depressed TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:29:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29074101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leafline/pseuds/leafline
Summary: Tommy couldn't stand it anymore. He was in pain. He needed it to end. He needed to find Tubbo. Even if it killed him.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	When the Yellow Fades to Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the intro to my story. enjoy!

Tommy woke up drowning. Not like usual, so far from the shore that he couldn’t see land. Not even like he’d been thrown off a boat. No, Tommy woke up drowning in his own thoughts. His hands quaked as he sat up in his bed, the night’s breeze making his greasy hair whip around in the wind. It was getting long by now. It’d need to be cut.

He looked around, obviously a bit shaken. What was he thinking about? He couldn’t remember, exactly. When Tommy woke up, he never remembered why. Nor how. Only how he felt afterwards. He felt abysmal. Deep longing for a true home, his friends, Wilbur, anyone at all. His silent tears were met by the early morning calls of an obnoxious bird.

A sigh, then he started to rise. Putting his cold bare feet on the solid earth, he looked around. The portrait of the Queen stared at him. He winked at it. That made him chuckle for a moment, a bit of levity in the dark tent. He opened his chest to see a letter from Ranboo, never opened, never touched. His pity was unwelcome here in the land of those with chains bigger than he could imagine. He shook his head as he watched the sun rise.

Would anyone besides Dream care if he was gone today? If he were to walk into the water with his burdens and hold his breath until he couldn’t anymore and let it fill his lungs. If he were to walk that steady path of stone and then jump into the lava below, its orange glow seemed to be telling him he was right all along. If he were to climb as high as he can, to touch the moon and see the light above the cold clouds, then let himself go plummeting to the cold earth below. Who would honestly say that Tommy mattered to them?

He approaches from the treeline. Slowly at first, but surely, as the white glimmered on his mask. His axe was raised slightly by his side and he approached Tommy. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Not this early. As his tall frame ducked under tree branches and then lamp posts, Tommy readied for confrontation by taking off his chestplate. He always wore a chestplate at night since his first time having the beasts approach him.

“Tommy.” He could hear Dream’s smirk under his mask. He was glad Dream was here, friend to friend. He’d never admit it, but for the small toll he took on Tommy’s armor? Dream was a good friend to have. The price was almost ridiculously small considering how often Dream visited him.

“So how have you been?” Dream inquired, slowly walking over to the shore and peering at Tommy while he rose to his feet and followed him like a duckling. He didn’t expect an answer, and he didn’t receive one. He looked to make sure he was still following. Dream let out a sigh as he approached the many portraits of an anthropomorphic rabbit saying he was high. Mexican Dream had been a menace.

Tommy gazed upward to see one of his favorite monuments on the island, a meme that featured Bugs Bunny saying “Fuck I’m High” in impact font. Mexican Dream was a treasure, he decided as he jogged to catch up with Dream. He looked at the dying grass by his feet, then glanced skywards at the fast-traveling clouds. The sky bled orange and purple, ever-changing before his eyes. 

The shore lapped away at the rocks closest to them. The peninsula on which he was forced to make his home was beautiful at sunrise, Tommy thought. It’s a shame the reason he was here was so ugly.

Nightmare, Dream’s axe, shimmered in the morning light. Its blade reflected the water perfectly on its edge. Dream turned to look at Tommy before he left, noticing Tommy’s shakiness. 

“Tommy, you are feeling okay, right?” His slight smile was riddled with the confusion he had to remember to inject into it. It’s not that hard to fool someone when they’re hooked on the string you’ve woven through their brain. He saw Tommy hesitate for a moment before telling him that nothing was wrong, he was just tired.

“I’m glad you visited me, Dream. You acted like a real prick sometimes, but I think you’re warming up to me!” Tommy had a shaky smile on his face, trying to convince himself that Dream wasn’t there to hurt him. That’s kind of difficult to do when he had just watched him blow everything that he could have used to protect himself to smithereens. 

Dream made a humming sound as he carefully stepped back towards the portal. “Look. I know you don’t like having me do this every day. But trust me, Tommy, you’re getting stronger.” His axe slipped off his back and into his hands as the magenta portal glowed brighter with his presence. Tommy watched as he slipped in, and when he was gone he looked longingly at the shore closest to L’Manberg. 

There's something to be said for how long Tommy stayed happy. The months he spent in exile left his mind deteriorating, a sad sight for all who didn’t see it, and a happy sight for the only one who did. Letters unopened, parcels never received, gifts destroyed. It adds up. His boulders turned to mountains faster than he could roll them. So poor Sisyphus just kept pushing. His shoulders gave out. 


End file.
